I'm a gifted adult survivor of child abuse by my adopted parents, who left me with chronic depression, PTSD, and a touch of autism for good measure. Here I examine the fragments of my past. It's enlightening but not pleasant. You've been warned.

If you want to see my lighter sides, here's a list of my other blogs:

We Have Always Lived in a Homeschool my blog about homeschooling my three gifted children

Lioness' Fandom

My Pinterest Boards where I express myself without words

Sunday, December 1, 2013

My Thanks

Resurfacing from a depressive spell at Thanksgiving drives it home how much I owe my husband and children.  Due to the peculiar nature of PTSD you only feel the horrors you're been repressing when your life is pleasant, and any pleasure I have I owe entirely to their love and support.  It's only because of them that I'm able to directly face my traumas, instead of having them as a constant background noise of no discernible origin. 

 Because of that fact dealing with the particular Hell that is my adoption-induced mental illnesses counts as a luxury.  Not the sort of luxury I would choose (my tastes lean more toward kitchenwares and DVD boxsets) but a luxury nonetheless.  While the work of dealing with my problems is all kinds of unpleasant, I know that only through actually doing that work lies the hope of ever knowing the peace that should have been my birthright.  I would never find the strength to tackle that work if it weren't for them.

Thanks, y'all.  I love you so much.

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